


Double Trouble Nonsense

by BadDecisionsAndGoodWriting



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Come as Lube, Comedy, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, F/M, Female Reader, Groping, Gross, Hate Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Polyamory, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 11:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadDecisionsAndGoodWriting/pseuds/BadDecisionsAndGoodWriting
Summary: Bonnie has a crush, Foxy has a raging hate boner, and you... you just want to make it to your next paycheck





	Double Trouble Nonsense

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to get updates on stories, hear announcements on what I'm writing, any fanart for the fandoms I write for, or just want to keep up to date with me, please check out my tumblr at [ShirleyTheSpiderStar](https://shirleythespiderstar.tumblr.com/)! Because I cannot be sure that people are seeing what I have to say, like announcements, I'd encourage you to check out the link now and then so you can stay updated. 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story.

Caffeine fueled gasps escape your throat as your heart rate skyrockets once again. Your fingers ached from the overexertion that was flipping the tablet and the scratchy, crusty mask on and off in an unforgiving rhythm. The stench from your own body makes you gag every time you caught a whiff of the high school-locker-room aroma. Spots dance in your eyes from your frantic state, the disruptive change in vision only serving to heighten your anxiety. 

 

All in all, you think it would be pretty fair to say this job sucks. 

 

It isn’t that you had expected the job to be amusing in any capacity, but not even your worst fears could have predicted the shitstorm it turned out to be. Hell, being a minimum wage security guard at a creepy-ass kid’s pizzeria was never your dream job in the first place. It’s really just something that might have looked good on a resume. You were barely qualified for the position, and the “interview” was just you signing an incredibly sketchy contract. And heaven forbid the janitor actually do his or her job: the place smelled like a grade school cafeteria on steroids. Even with all that, the worst part of this job is trying to defend against an armada of Chucky Cheese rejects with nothing but a flash light and a squeaky Freddy mask to protect you. 

You suppose, if you try desperately to look at the bright side, this job isn’t all bad. For the first time since you’ve been hired, you actually factually got to do something related to being a security guard! When you came in to start your shift a few teenagers were screwing with the animatronics. What they had done you didn’t bother to ask, you were too busy reveling in the joy of doing what you had signed up for: yelling at annoying teens. Unfortunately, you seemed to be the only one who enjoyed it, as most of the animatronics seemed to be shunning you and the ones that weren’t were trying to kill you with more vigor than children finish off birthday cake with. 

Once more, you shine your barely-functioning flashlight down the hall and… Oh come on they’ve got to be kidding you! still? They’re still there? Oh, for the love of God this job is absolutely unbearable! At the end of the hall, a faceless bunny and a half-skinned fox stare at you. Just fucking stare at you! The nerve!

Every single night, without fail, you’ve gotten a visit from… well if you’re being honest you’ve gotten a visit from every animatronic and their grandmother over the course of your job. But! But more specifically two of the old animatronics (Foxy and Bonnie you think they’re called?) visited you together all throughout the night. The worst part is that it’s always the same routine: they’ll stare at you, mutter to themselves, continue staring at you, mumble to each other, stare at you a little while longer, then one of them leaves only for the whole damn thing to start over again at some other point during the night. You always fume over what they could be talking about. You aren’t even sure they are talking, but if they are it’s probably a long conversation about how best to kill you. You wouldn’t put it above them is what you’re saying.

“Oh, night guard, where are you~?” says a southern seasoned voice. “I knooooow you’ve gotta be somewhere… could you be in the party room~?” You scramble to put your mask on as he continues, “Or in the veeeeeeents~?” By now you’re so sweaty that the mask nearly slips out of your hands, but you think you’ve just about— “AAAAAAAAA!”

The next few seconds are a blur of blue, cords, and screaming (mainly on your side). Once the proverbial dust is settled, you glare at the bluest bastard himself, Toy Bonnie. “Honestly, I knew where you were the whole time,” he mumbles as he perfects the cords around you—wait, cords? “I just wanted to give you a little heads up, I watched a movie once where the killer taunted his victims before striking and I just had to try it!” You look down to where his hands lead and—oh lord you look like you’re in shibari. “Did it work? Are you impressed?” He looks into your eyes as if he hadn’t just jumped you and bound you.

You look down and—oh dear God, “what the fuck did you do?”

Toy Bonnie giggles (fucking giggles!) “I wrapped you up like a present, isn’t it great?” He casually tugs at the cords binding your arms to the chair and lets them snap onto you. 

As the musty, summer, pizzeria air drifts past your still clothed but far more exposed nether regions, you shudder. The rough plastic on the back of the chair chaffs against your tied-up arms as you struggle to cover your private area. You try to block it with your legs, but he’s bound them to the arms of the chair. You’re practically on display for anyone walking by to see, and any onlookers in this dump probably wouldn’t be the type to simply make fun of you. The thought of that little bastard Balloon Boy staring at you from under the desk forces a chill down your spine. Real great. 

“A present to who exactly?” You ask, avoiding eye contact for fear of an answer you don’t want to hear. 

“Wow you uh… really did a number on the guard, huh?” says the bumbling rabbit as he stalks up to you. Of. Fucking. Course. How could you not see this coming? Clearly the buffoon didn’t have the gall to get you himself, so he got his toy counterpart to keep you down so he could stuff you without a fight! For an old, faceless, and wrecked bunny, that’s a pretty good plan. You guess it’s kind of a relief, at the very least the fox didn’t want the same thing. Maybe he really isn’t such a mean old fox after all!

“You look better when you’re not blinding me, guard,” says Foxy, venom in his words and a limp in his leg. Great. Your attempt at optimism and good nature just got shot down like so many planes in war. You guess the fox is just as much of a dick as you thought he was. He’s probably even worse: you never would have expected him to stoop this low. You mean, really? Getting the toy to do his work? What a piece of crap!

You stop in your silent berating of that damnable fox as the rabbit strokes your face with his cold as hell metal hand. He’s hovering over you now, standing right next to your chair way closer than you have ever wanted. There’s something almost loving in his red led eyes, almost like he’s fondly gazing at his lover. You certainly don’t love this purple-blue son of a bitch, not with the way that he permeates your nightmares. You can smell the decay on him, the scent of metal rusting and fabric giving way to mold. He leans down to your horrified face, his lack of one leaving you guessing constantly what he could do next. Then he— oh lord he’s trying to nuzzle you but his face is all wires and metal bits and ow and why is he doing this.

Before you can come to any sort of realization, Bonnie is suddenly out of the picture. Foxy swiftly takes his place, but he doesn’t regard you with the odd care that Bonnie does. As you would expect, Foxy is practically seething with rage. His chest is heaving, the ribbons of fabric left on him fluttering as he twitches. If you didn’t think you were dead before you certainly do now. As he raises his hook your short, sad life flashes before your eyes… man you’re kind of boring, aren’t you? His arm swings down faster than you could react properly with some amazing final words. You brace yourself for death, crying out in terror and agony as your chest is pulled forwards and your skin is torn. Warm blood oozes out and you wait for your final breaths to pass. As the blood continues to flow gently you realize that something isn’t quite right.

“Aww did I cut the little guard?” Foxy asks mockingly, “’ow cruel of me.” You peak an eye open that you didn’t realize was closed to see Foxy bowed over you. He seems to be smiling, “Don’t be such a yellow belly, guard: let old Foxy take a look at it.” Your whole being screams in confusion: one part of you is insisting that you run away, another is terrified at the potential infection, and yet another is trying to figure out how you’re still alive. Foxy is on his knees now, threatening muzzle just inches away from your delicate skin. The horrible gash you imagined turns out to be a small, inch long cut in between your breasts. Foxy sighs like he’s practiced it, “I’m so sorry guard lady, let me fix ye up.” A long tongue flicks out from the depths of Foxy’s mouth and licks your wound. It’s far more lifelike than what he looks to possess, although you can feel a bit of the underlying metal each time he licks.

“Foxy!” Bonnie shouts, “I thought we agreed to not hurt the guard!” Bonnie rushes to your back, rubbing what’s left of his jaw on your head as if that would comfort you. 

“I promised no such thing,” Foxy says in between swipes of his tongue, “and didn’t you promise that I could ‘ave first dibs?” Bonnie defensively wraps his remaining arm around your head.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on here?” Everyone freezes at your cry of confusion. Bonnie stops forcefully cuddling you and Foxy is caught mid lick. They glance at each other, at least you think so, like they hadn’t planned on you being there. No one makes a move, neither of them seem to know what to do. 

“I caaaaan!” Toy Bonnie bounds into your line of sight, hands on his hips like a corny superhero. 

Bonnie shakes his head frantically at his toy counterpart, “no! No, that won’t be necessary, I can do that.” He forces your head up so you’re looking right at his damaged face. “Seeing how you saved us from those pests, we thought… well we thought…” With the way his ears cross over each other on his head he looks adorably bashful. You almost feel like forgiving him for all the stress he’s caused you, almost. You guess that, occasionally, the world does recognize you for your good deeds.

“Bonnie fiiiiiinallly came to terms with the massive stiffy you give him every time he sees you!” Toy Bonnie interjects. Bonnie’s jaw drops, which is followed by him rabidly trying to reattach what’s left of his face. Barking laughter reverberates in the cramped office as Foxy braces himself on your legs. You might be laughing too, if you weren’t so preoccupied with the possibility that these mechanical nightmares might have dongs. “And Foxy couldn’t stand how nice you were, so he was gonna solve it by shoving his—”

“I super don’t want to hear the rest of that,” you say, wishing that you hadn’t come into work today. Well damn, looks like even the Fox has a soft spot for you, and probably a hard spot too. What on earth did you do to be so lucky and yet so unlucky at the same time? You mean it’s far better than being stuffed in a crappy animatronic suit, but it does still sound like you’re going to get stuffed. You wonder if they can see the irony in this.

A rip tears you out of your philosophical rambling as everyone in sight flinches away from the painful sound. A soft, musty cloth is shoved into your mouth by a metal hand and hook. You move your tongue to eject the unwelcome guest, but it tastes so rank that you don’t dare touch it. Out of the corner of your eye you can see that it is the same red of your Fox nemesis, and directly in front of your eye you can see a new patch of “fur” is missing out of the proud Fox. 

“I didn’t want to hear you yapping at me to ‘stop’ or ‘cut it out’. It would’ve spoiled the mood,” He says as he strokes your face with his rusty hook.

“Foxy! That sounds like rape!” Bonnie says, his reattached jaw looking to be clenched.

“I thought that was what we were doing?” He says, ignoring your rising struggling.

“I am not A RAPIST FOXY! AND NEITHER ARE YOU!”

“Arh ahree,” you try to say.

“I be a pirate, though… It’s what we do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ye know, I get… the booty.” Everyone, excluding Foxy, groans at his poor and overused joke. “Oh, come on! That was gold! Pure gold!” Bonnie mumbles how he was pretty sure he heard someone making that joke yesterday; His toy counterpart proclaims that there hasn’t been a pirate joke so lame in the history of history; You try to tell him that your grandma could have made a better joke in her sleep. Foxy screams in anger while the ones who can quickly shield their ears, “fine! But I’m still getting me booty!” He carelessly rips the makeshift gag out of your mouth. Then he sticks it to the cut on your chest, and you wonder if the bandage is any better than just leaving it in the open air. With a huff, Foxy retreats to a corner of the office to grumble about how amazing his jokes are.

You have but a moment to breathe in the not-so fresh air of the pizza place before Bonnie is towering over you again. Despite the unsettling lack of a face he’s nowhere close to being as threatening as Foxy is, and you manage a half-hearted smile at him. He brings his arm up to his face as a creaky squeal escapes from the depths of his throat. He rockets down to your face and pokes his jaw into your lips. You suppose that that’s probably the best he can do for a kiss. Fighting back the thought of the likely swarms of germs living on him, you kiss him back as well as you can. His arm curls around you as he basks in the odd kiss, a hint of warmth spreads throughout his mouth. You didn’t realize that you were such a good kisser.

His hand twitches as he moves down to your chest, “may I?”

You politely avoid guffawing at the unexpectedly gentle giant, “sure, why not?” You can clearly think of several reasons why not, but this is way too entertaining to pass up on.

Joyously, Bonnie places his cold, shaking hand on your chest. For a few minutes, he just leaves it there as if he’s basking in your warmth, in your life. It’s sweet for the first 20 seconds, then it’s just sort of unsettling. You clear your throat, then you cough, then you cough harder, eventually you just tell him that he can move on now. He decides that the best way to move on is to stay exactly where he is but do something slightly different. He manages to squeeze your breast, rolling the nipple with his damaged thumb. Besides the vague feeling that a metal pole is trying to massage you, he’s not bad for someone with a singular metal hand. It’s still cold, but the heat from your bosom is warming it up enough to feel a little comfortable. Without terribly complex joints, Bonnie is stuck kneading your chest; he massages it by pressing each of his thin fingers in then pulling the skin towards him again and again. He switches to your other side when he figures that it must be feeling neglected. It’s a little awkward, what with the fact that he has only 1 hand and he has to step over to your other side just to touch you.

In that moment of waiting for more weird groping, you see a metal thing poking out of his crotch. It looked a lot like a metal party hat had been shoved up the rabbit’s unmentionables, then the party hat had been squashed and stretched until it was angled down and elongated, finally a small hole was etched in the tip. You stare at it as he moves into position to give you another uncomfortable massage. It’s clearly not been taken care of well at all, even his busted face is in better condition. There are colorful wires in place of certain plates, and there is a patch that you pray isn’t rust. The most distracting part, however, is the fact that he’s probably going to try and put that inside of you.

“You aren’t going to use that, are you?” You ask.

“No, no I’m not.” He halts, “use what? Exactly?”

“Your… well, I think it’s your penis.”

His arm shoots to cradle his nearly destroyed member, “what’s wrong with it?”

“You’re frickiiiiing rusty! You old, gross rust bucket!” Toy Bonnie says from his perch on the speakers in a corner of the room, “that can be deadly deadly, man!”

“Put it in ‘er anyway!” Foxy encourages from his own corner, “she’s ‘ad it coming!”

Bonnie is shaking now, giving off the sound of an old, creaky swing in a storm. As you’ve all been talking, he’s been gripping his penis like someone is threatening to rip it off. His bright eyes are locked on your clothed nether regions, considering the consequences of what you all know you came here for. There’s an ear-piercing echo of metal being rend from its fastenings. The next moment a piece of damaged metal clangs to the ground under Bonnie’s feet. You swear that you can see a tear coming from one of the LEDs as they go dark for a few seconds. 

“Bonnie?” His toy counterpart stutters, “you didn’t just…”

“Night guard?” Bonnie manages to squeak out.

“Bonnie what the Hell, dude,” you say, “did you just… tear off part of your own dick?”

“Yes,” he wheezes out, “I did.”

“But… why?”

“I,” he shivers in apparent pain, “I didn’t want you to be sick.” You smile, you never would have thought that anyone would do something like that for you. “Plus, it could spread to the rest of me, and that would kill me.”

“Oh,” you say, “that doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it wouldn’t be,” he says. What follows is an uncomfortably long silence by every party in the room. Some contemplating the deadly effects of rust, and others wondering when the real fun is going to begin. “Sooo…” Bonnie mutters, “do you wanna…?”

“I mean, you did rip part of your penis off just for me,” you say, still reeling from the sudden genital mutilation, “it would be rude of me not to accept, wouldn’t it?”

Bonnie lets out a frustratingly cute, but still breath-stricken, giggle, “I guess it would be, huh?”

Without further ado, and no more dick tearing, he reaches down to unbutton your jeans. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to see the flaw in Toy Bonnie’s plan: you may have been sexily tied up but your pants were stuck to your body with no way to remove them properly. Properly is the key term. Bonnie, with strength that you only imagined he had, rips your pants and poor panties away with a single firm motion. He splits your well-worn jeans right down the main seam, and your underwear come off in kind. For a moment, you nearly tear up at the loss of your clothing and most likely ticket to not looking like you were seriously slacking off on your job.

To the surprise of no one in the room except for Bonnie, you’re pretty dang dry. Be it the fact that Bonnie is only ok at massages, because you’re still a little unsettled, or even because his penis looks like a torture device, facts were facts. Bonnie seems unable to accept the facts of his lack of massaging skill, as he once again tries to kindle your interest with his one, metal hand. You try to tell him that you’re sure it would be fine if he just put it in, but the cold metal changes your mind in a hurry. 

Unlike with your breasts, the harsh heat gradient of your crotch and the less than room temperature iron of his hand feel amazing. The relative smoothness makes it feel much more like a cold vibrator than an animatronic. Not to mention the thrill that you previously ignored of being so intimate with something so powerful. As his piercingly cold metal fingers rub your clit, you find a few small whines and moans passing by your lips. You guess that the old, broken down bunny isn’t as terrible at sex as you thought he was. Two more of his fingers move down to your leaking lips, stroking and pushing into the dampness. Finally, he decides that you’re ready and he retracts his fingers from your inviting folds. You whine, ignoring your quickly fading pride, for him to continue.

A murmur of approval replaces it as he awkwardly lifts himself up to mount you. You might have helped him, but for one thing your hands are tied behind your back and it’s also hilarious to watch him struggle with his cock out. Since your arms are against the back of the chair your torso is too, leaving little room for a large, imposing animatronic to squeeze into. There’s little doubt in your mind that Toy Bonnie had every intention of watching his older model struggling to do you. He does look wildly entertained from where you can see him at least; despite having no lungs to laugh with, the blue rabbit seems to be giggling at the much larger bunny’s fumbling. A heartier chuckle comes from Foxy, although he seems to be a bit preoccupied with prepping his manly bits for his turn.

Eventually Bonnie finds purchase by pushing his legs through the gaps between your angled legs and the chair bottom. The poor chair creaks with the weight of Bonnie’s metal frame as he carefully situates himself in front of you. If he wasn’t too close before, he certainly is now. The musk of metal and mold is all you can smell, and it’s just as unpleasant as it was when you first caught a whiff. He is surprisingly soft though, a bit like cuddling with a worn-out teddy bear that happened to be partially metallic and sentient. On the more positive side, his member is finally close enough for the real event of the evening, close enough for the metallic tip to be tickling your clit. 

There’s hardly a pause as he manually moves his unique tool to go inside your hungry cavern. It goes in pleasantly smoothly, partly thanks to his massages and partly thanks to the thin tip. It’s hard to really compare it with any previous encounters: the shape and texture is just unlike anything you ever felt. The metal is cold but the wrapped wires are burning with activity, and the shape almost feels like a metallic tongue reaching into your depths. All in all, it’s nowhere near as bad as you were expecting.

A moan reverberates through his chest as he pokes the end of your tunnel with his cock, his hips pressed wonderfully against yours. A moment passes as he braces against the ground and lifts himself up so he’s almost standing. His hand affixes itself on the back of the chair, away from your hands but in a way that suggests an attempt to comfort. He pushes his bottom lip onto your complete ones, and you return the sweet half kiss. You groan in anticipation as he pulls all the way out, ready by now for whatever lovemaking he has in mind.

Like a sword being sheathed in a body, he thrusts forward with the kind of power you expected they’d have. You gasp in pleasured agony as he pulls out and buries himself in again even quicker. He continues the brutal thrusting but every time it gets shorter until he’s practically gyrating his hips like his real-world rabbit counterparts. His metal body whines in protest as he pushes its limits far past where it should have stopped. You can’t bring yourself to care too much about the limits of your animatronic suiter though, your mind is too busy reeling at the rush of sensations and pleasure he’s managing to give you. Wet slapping and angry joints screeching accompanies your chorus of moans and whines.

His hips stutter in their brutal assault, a wheezing grunt replaces the cacophony you were just getting used to. Something warm and viscous fills you as he shutters to a stop. Although it seems impossible, you think he just jizzed. You can’t find any purchase to come yourself, and you aren’t one to fake it just because it would spare somebody’s feelings. He’s frozen in the same pose he came in, seemingly unable to come to terms with his early release.

“Did you just…” you know full well what the answer is, but you’re nothing if not a mean lover.

“I am so sorry!” Bonnie cries, his long ears folded over atop one another, “it’s just been so long, and I was already really excited and... God, I’m sorry!” Somewhat painfully, he pops his feet out from their places from the tight squeeze of the chair and your legs. Luckily, or unluckily considering the situation, his metallic phallus slips easily out of your sex thanks to his fake cum. “Listen, I need to restock my cum reserves, so I’ll be back in a minute.” Before you can even question where they get the synthetic seed, he’s already sprinting to the parts and services room.

Toy Bonnie and Foxy are having the time of their lives, the toy having fallen from his perch as he struggles for air and the fox going so far as to point and laugh at the retreating bunny. As much as you would love to join into the mean humor you find yourself more distracted with the ridiculous series of events that just took place. You just saw an animatronic whip out its dong, peel a rust spot off, try to fuck you, and then come prematurely. Not how you expected to spend your shift, that’s for sure. 

The unbearable weight of a denied orgasm hangs over you, though you weren’t really that close to begin with. His fake semen leaks out of you like a terrible and disgusting water tap. You refuse to even entertain the absurd idea of becoming pregnant with the robot’s baby, but a small piece of you worries anyway. A more primal urge tells you that you need to finish no matter who or what provides it. You glance at the broken analog clock on your desk, suppressing a whine as the time of only 3am blinks mockingly in your face. As much as you’d like a nice finish, you think that that nice dildo at home would do the job much better.

“Well,” the old pirate says, “that was a sight to behold.”

“You got that right!” The blue bunny wheezes, “who’d guess that he had such a short fuse?”

“Yeah, what a dick head,” you say, trying to join in on the odd moment. Clearly you don’t belong in this moment, because the boys stare at you as if they forgot you are in the room. They share a look with each other, then their wide eyes are back on you. You mean really, aren’t you supposed to be the main attraction? Is this really a “make fun of Bonnie” event and you just happened to be in the crossfire?

“He didn’t even make you come?” Toy Bonnie asks, “wow.” His smile grows larger, “I knew I was an upgrade.”

Foxy lets out a computerized snort, “aye, I ‘ad a feeling ‘e wouldn’t be good enough for ye.” He rises to his feet no smoother than an animatronic should, “lad ‘as a good heart, but ‘is technique is about as good as a ripped sail.”

“I’ll say,” you mutter as Foxy’s unstable form creeps closer to you. As much as your hormones scream for him to finish the job, you know this is probably going to hurt. If he’s feels anything like you do for him you imagine that he’s not going to be anywhere near as gentle as Bonnie. 

As he finds his place in front of you, the small wound on your chest aches with fear and remembrance of his actions. Even with fake eyes, it’d take a blind person to not recognize the hatred that emanates from his glare. The way he regards you is as if you were to blame for the damage that has befallen him. You’re pretty sure the worst offense you’ve ever committed against him was trying to survive his attempts on your life. You choose not to say anything though, as you have no desire to be on the receiving end of his hook again.

“Old Foxy isn’t a fan of this new age bondage nonsense,” he says as he raises his hook despite your best hopes. 

You brace for more scars, darting your head away when you feel metal grace your leg. No pain comes though, only the sound of wires snapping. You peek one eye at his work, terrified at what you’d find. A wash of relief comes as you spot the lack of wires on your poor leg, and your other follows shortly after. You drop your stiff legs to a more comfortable position as he frees your arms next. In celebration of your newly found freedom, you burst out of the chair and make a break for the exit. You get a whooping 0 feet as Foxy wraps his degrading arms around you. His grip is tight enough to prevent you from falling on your face, but also sudden enough to tear the breath from your lungs.

“Cripes, guard!” Foxy says as he tries to prevent himself from toppling over with you, “I can see why the toy thought bondage was a good idea!” the rush of fear keeps you struggling even as Foxy’s frame buries itself into your delicate flesh. 

A frustrated grunt comes from Foxy as he buries his muzzle in your ear. He lets loose a predatory growl that halts your feverish struggling. With your lack of flailing limbs to hinder him, his hands move to your heaving breasts. His more useful hand gropes at your flesh with the occasional pinch to keep things interesting, and his less useful one settles for a circular rubbing pattern. There’s something far less loving about his methods, something that Bonnie still managed to provide even with only one limb. His threatening teeth scrape against your neck as that confusingly sexy growl rattles your body with its sincerity.

“Now that’s more like it,” he whispers into your neck, “I know that bunny didn’t do it for ye, ‘ow’s about you let Captain Foxy show you ‘ow a real man does it?”

“I don’t think you’re a real man,” you say, fighting off the urge to moan, “and there’s no way I’m letting you—ohhhh lord what are you doing?”

Foxy’s dull but imposing teeth bury themselves in your neck as he abuses your erect nipples, “I can smell ‘ow much you need this, guard. Besides, Foxy’s been wanting to show you what ‘appens when you make a pirate mad.” Something cold bumps into your hindquarters that you can’t even pretend isn’t his shlong. You have to admit, it does feel a lot more intact than Bonnie’s, and you are kind of still horny...

“Fine,” you say, uncertainly moving your hands to his, “I guess you can’t be any worse.” 

His hand and hook are still stroking your breasts, but with your shaky agreeance he rubs far more aggressively. His light pinches turn into harsh tweaking, and his hook switches to the sharper side for some soft scratching. You almost want to tell him to cut it out with the hook, but he’s clearly taken better care of himself than Bonnie, as it appears shiny and relatively smooth. Besides, the thrill of almost getting hurt is rising your heart rate and moistening your folds in the loveliest of ways. His teeth continue to nibble at your succulent neck, not sharp enough to cut but firm enough for a titillating feeling. 

His strange body presses against yours so unusually that you grind into him just to savor the feeling. Your knees are staying strong against his feverish attack, but his legs support you all the same. His cold endoskeleton and your warm flesh compliment each other wonderfully. His tattered chest is pressed flush against your naked back, again reminding you of the sorry state of the thing that tries to love up on you. You sigh softly as the rapidly heating member rubs against your backside and occasionally scrapes against your womanhood. If you pay close enough attention you can notice something a little larger on the strange device, but you’ve got your plate full as it is. 

Not wanting to just stand and take all this attention, you decide to try and reciprocate. One of your hands moves up to play with his tempting ears, as they just look too fun to leave alone. They wiggle as you stroke them, the one with fabric left seeming almost life-like. Your other hand moves down to his bulging shaft to really get a feel for what’s going to be poking around inside you. Playfully, you trail your hand down his chest, spine, and all the way to his large hips. You take a moment to chuckle at how oddly womanish they are, with the way they fan out and curve. 

His manhood nearly feels juxtaposed to his voluptuous hips, but it’s so tantalizing you hardly care. It’s metal just like the bunny’s, but it’s shape is much closer to a regular penis than a party hat. The tip is softly pointed just like the rabbit’s, but it fills out much sooner. As you stroke along to the base a bubble of worry begins to grow in your stomach. There’s definitely something nonstandard about his member, and it’s not that it’s metal. Just as the metal blends into the fabric of his pelvis, the metal expands to form a large protrusion before thinning out to its standard size.

The fox cackles as his hands move down towards your stomach, “I see you’ve found me knot.” His cold metal fingers stroke the plump outer flesh of your vagina as his hook settles for making faint lines across your hip bones. “Don’t worry,” his hook digs into you, “it’ll hurt.”

Your mouth feels dry, “maybe I don’t like pain.”

His fingers push into your sex as his hook cuts into your hip and his teeth bury into you. Despite your protests, you whine and a rush of your juices coat Foxy’s probing digits. “I think that’s a lie, guard. Ye think you can slip something like that past Foxy?” His teeth separate from your bruised skin to brush against your ear, “Ye must really be looking for a good pounding. Don’t fret: Foxy’s gonna give ye a run fer yer money.”

You barely have time to give him a piece of your mind before he’s bending you over your own desk. He carelessly clears the better part of the desk so you can lay down unencumbered. The desk is a little cold, but your body is so hot that you shiver at the contact. His hand and hook move to squeeze your hips for more leverage, as he prepares his hips for the onslaught. You gasp as he pokes at your back door, spreading his fake pre all along the rim.

“It’s been so long since I’ve plundered some booty,” he sighs wistfully.

A wave of terror rushes through you as you imagine the harsh thing ripping you open, “please don’t,” you whimper.

Foxy pauses at your entrance, his body arched as if you stopped him just before he thrust in. Grumpily, he repositions himself at your maidenhead, “fine, but I’m not ‘olding back anything now, and don’t think I’m not coming back for it.”

With no more warning than that, he buries himself to the knot inside your walls. The knot doesn’t go in, but it feels like he just barely kept himself from popping it in right off the bat. His dick is much harsher than Bonnie’s, only for the heftier girth it stretches you with. As promised, he holds nothing back, his length tearing into your snatch. He’s nowhere near as fast as Bonnie, but he manages to hit quite a bit harder. 

You struggle not to bite your tongue as it lolls out of your mouth at the cruel pleasure you’re being assaulted with. Your huffing and puffing go beautifully with the juicy smacking of your fucking. Your body rocks against the desk, making the old thing squeak with the kind of abuse it was never supposed to take. Your boobs bounce as he recklessly pounds into you, giving the toy one hell of a show. You can’t help the lecherous moans that erupt from your throat every time the fox slams into you.

“Hey guys sorry that took so long,” Bonnie says as he bounds into the room, “what’d I miss—.” Bonnie stops as he gets an eyeful of you and Foxy’s rough session. “Well, damn,” he mumbles as you both continue without so much as acknowledging him.

“Are you,” Foxy huffs, “jealous you can’t make ‘er scream like this?”

“She’s not screaming,” he insists with an edge to his voice, “she’s just moaning.”

As if Bonnie issued a challenge, Foxy reroutes his hook to tug your throat until your kind of upright. He then buries his faux teeth into your shoulder, forcing a strangled scream out of your throat. “Is that good enough for ye?”

Bonnie sighs as if Foxy is tiring him, “I guess that technically constitutes as screaming.” He starts to tweak your nipples, forcing you to twist away and yet toward the extra source of pleasure. 

You don’t have the sense to say anything clever, not even for a dumb comment. The hazy murk of pain and delight block any coherent thought that you would have shared not a few minutes ago. Your stomach twists into a knot as Bonnie starts to pinch your clit. Foxy must feel how your muscles pulse and squeeze against him, as he pumps you even harder with the hope of finishing you off. Every time Foxy’s so called knot bumps against you, you can feel yourself creeping just a little bit closer to climax. The final straw comes in the form of Foxy finally finding your g-spot. 

As the waves of pure primal need wash over you, you really let out a scream for all the animatronics to hear. You can feel everything as you come: Bonnie’s cool metal hand abusing your clit, Foxy’s hook pressing against your bruised throat, the tatters of his suit sticking to your sweaty skin, and his metal cock burying itself inside you. Your face is frozen in orgasmic bliss, your hands uselessly grabbing for something to ground you back to reality. You can almost forget the animatronics that you thought were trying to kill you gave you this wondrous feeling, but their unnatural coolness keeps that at bay. You’re not sure but you think you may have called out at least one of their names, although you’re not confident that it sounded more like a single syllable from either of them stretched out. 

Foxy begins to falter in his brutal pace, his hand squeezing your hips for support. You imagine that your orgasm triggered the beginning of his. He grunts something about conquering your hole as he pulls out for the final thrust. You gasp in discomfort as he pokes his tip into your rear to finish. In an impressive show of self-control, he doesn’t push it all the way in, just enough to give you a small stretch. You try not to gag in disgust as his hefty load empties itself into your anal cavity. Even Bonnie seems a bit confused at your sudden show of sickness and he checks behind you to see what’s going on.

“Ugh, dude!” Bonnie says, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“The lass was afraid I might ‘urt ‘er,” he grunts as he comes down from his high, “I thought a bit of lubrication would help, besides,” he moves the both of you back until he bumps into your abandoned chair, “I think ye need to show ‘er a proper good time.” You and Bonnie lock in a stare, both wondering who allowed this wannabe pirate to be so bold. 

“I think I could go for one more round,” you tell him, “and what kind of girl hasn’t wanted to be dped?” You look down at your soiled sex, “and I don’t think two in the same hole could lead to anything good.” 

Now it’s Bonnie and Foxy’s turn to share a look, this time one of amazement for your willingness. “I’m down if you’re down.”

“Oh, I be down all right,” Foxy says, “down to pound town!”

You try to ignore how stupid that was and instead try to negotiate a good position, “ok since Bonnie has only one arm, we should lay down on the ground so I don’t fall.” You can’t imagine that he’d be able to properly support you without two limbs, and plus Foxy probably doesn’t want to strain himself anymore. 

“Nonsense!” Foxy says, “watch this!” Ignoring your squeak of fear, Foxy pulls your legs so that your pussy is on full display for the blushing bunny. “See? It ain’t no problem!”

Bonnie grumbles something you don’t care to properly understand as he positions himself in front of you. His lone hand rubs your belly, the metal raising bumps on your skin. You watch in abstract horror as his unique cock slowly parts his frayed “skin” and back into the hard form you got very familiar with earlier. You hadn’t paid attention to how they magically sprouted genitals, but you didn’t expect it to come out like that. With far less theatrics than he first entered you with, he gently slides inside your well-used hole. A tuft of fur comically resembling pubic hair just about his dick tickles your clit pleasantly.

Foxy’s been slowly pushing himself into you as to not overwhelm you too badly. You’re not sure if every instance of butt sex hurts, but this sure as Hell does. The metal makes it feel less like anal sex and more like an unimaginable surgical procedure. It certainly hurts, but his generous coating of jizz makes it bareable. Even though the fact that he’s using cum as lube is really disgusting, it certainly seems to be making the experience a little smoother. You never thought you’d have anything nice to say about the pissy fox that stalked you throughout the night, but you guess there’s a first time for everything. 

As Foxy reaches his knot and Bonnie fully sheaths himself inside you, all three of you let out a sigh of relief. You feel so full, so loved, so ready for more in a way you’ve never felt before. Even though you don’t really feel like you’ve expressed how much they’ve stressed you out, or even gotten back at them, this is certainly burning off some of the tension. Bonnie is so glad that he could show you pleasure, that he could touch you without hurting you. It’s been so hard for him ever since the toys came into the picture, and you’ve made him feel like there’s hope for him yet. Foxy’s needed someone or something to take all the anger off. Someone to feel how he felt, or at least someone to take it out on.

Bonnie’s the first to start, choosing to gyrate his hips into yours as he just barely had a good hold on you. Foxy picks up right after him, slowly working his member in and out. The sensation is strange to say the least; if it was weird for one metal dong to be in you two is just otherworldly. Occasionally, they scrape against each other and shivers overtake you each time it happens. They make sure to be slow at first, somehow grasping that a human has limits when it comes to pleasure.

It takes little more than a mewled beg for them to speed up. Bonnie has no trouble with returning to his rabbit pace from before—you just hope he can keep going for longer. Your anus stings as Foxy slams his knot into it repeatedly in a clear display of cruelty. The bastard even pushes his hook into your leg hard enough to draw blood. If Bonnie wasn’t so distracted with not coming early again he probably would have yelled at Foxy for the line of red running down your leg. If he had a top jaw you’d imagine that he’d be grinding his teeth, but his jaw has to settle for twitching uselessly instead.

Their paces are so different you feel your mind reeling from the divine pain pleasure mix. Both creatures managing to provide their own unique concoction of enjoyment and agony. Bonnie has a clear advantage in that he’s in your vagina, where an assortment of nerves are built to make you feel good. He’s so fast though, not to mention the fact that you’ve been assaulted there throughout the night, that it pulses with soreness. Foxy said he wanted you to feel pain, and he’s certainly supplying it. Each thrust is a new burst of discomfort and throb of sweet fullness. The pure animalistic quality to each of their styles on top of the massive amount of stimulus is rushing you towards your climax way faster than it should be.

Unsurprisingly, Bonnie is the first to come again, shuttering to a stop like the fuckboy he is. His warm goo fills you in a familiar way, and he squeals out much like he did the first time. Surprisingly, this triggers your finish and you find yourself screaming out some random expletive you don’t put a lot of thought into. Foxy takes the moment to pop his knot into your ass, forcing the cry of pleasure to heighten to something akin to a dying screech. It feels a bit like you’ve just passed a kidney stone, only it’s your ass and it’s going in. He doesn’t have much room left for thrusting, but he manages to rock you back and forth. It takes only a few more thrusts for him to add on to the rising cum content in your body, adding a growl in for good measure.

Even though 2/3s of you don’t have lungs, you all are panting. You feel unabashedly satisfied, leaning against Foxy like he’s a bed. Bonnie falls into you, not bothering to slip out just yet. Foxy can’t quite find the strength to support the both of you, so he casually sits down in the chair, taking you and the bonster with him. A part of you wants to tell them how great that was, but you can’t quite find the energy to do it. They don’t either, so you all sit in a calm silence, just drinking each other in. You wonder if this is the start of a strange sort of relationship, while Bonnie and Foxy know that they won’t let you go for anything after this. Even with the toy still watching all of you, you can’t help but feel like this is one of the most memorable sexual experiences that you’ll ever have.

“You didn’t wind the music box, guard! You know what that means—oh my god what the hell are you doing?” All eyes are on the entrance, where a particularly unsettled puppet stands as if he just saw a mouse. “That’s absolutely disgusting,” he turns around to get the hell out of whatever he just walked into, “those two cannot be hygienic.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always thanks for reading! I always appreciate it when someone gives me some constructive criticism as I partially do this fanfic stuff to practice my writing skills. Also I have to admit, I don't love this one. Mostly because I started it before I really got their characters down so everyone is a little ooc for my versions of them, so I would also like some critiques of the characters so I can further fine tune them so they are just right. Hope you enjoyed despite that!
> 
> I cannot believe that this is the first story I've written that reached 1000 hits...  
> You guys are pervy... but I did write it >//U//0


End file.
